


Cursed Confessions

by Kabal42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Get Together, Healing, M/M, Medicine, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-23
Updated: 2007-09-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:59:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/199128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabal42/pseuds/Kabal42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry has an unlikely job in an even more unlikely place. But when he's hit by an unknown curse, the person to help him is, perhaps, the most unlikely of all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cursed Confessions

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Confession is Good for the Soul](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/14336) by AnnaFugazzi. 



> Written for the [HD Remix](http://hd_remix.livejournal.com) at LJ.  
> In this remix I chose to keep the framework of the original fic. The basic plot and its devices are all made by annafugazzi as are the various OCs herein. The idea for setting and what the characters are doing there should also be credited to annafugazzi.  
> My contribution was to switch the point of view and update the fic to being compliant with Deathly Hallows – even the epilogue, if you squint. Hard *G* I also changed some of the dynamics surrounding the magic used here and I have to admit to cutting parts of the original as well to make it more suitable for an exchange.  
> I would like to mention the dialogue because I had a lot of fun with mixing annafugazzi's original dialogue with my own to make the fic a parallel but not simply a rewrite.  
> My thanks go to coffeejunkii for running this amazing exchange and to my beloved beta and muse, elfflame. She is the reason this one worked out for me.

_A little more than eight years after the fall of Voldemort, sometime around Halloween_

Thinking back, Harry wasn't sure what or when it had started. The change. To be honest, from the here and now it looked like an almost inevitable chain of events starting from when he was born, but he knew that wasn't the case. It was just that in a way, his life made sense to him now. Which was very nice in itself. But that wasn't what he was trying to figure out.

He glanced at the sleeping figure next to himself and smiled. He couldn't quite understand how he came to be here and feel so damned happy. Really happy, not just content. It wasn't that he minded at all, but there had to be a turning point, a choice made or an event witnessed where he could say 'this is it', and he wanted to know what it was.

Perhaps it had been when he had decided to become a Mediwizard after the war. It hadn't been the most logical of choices to his friends, nor to Ginny, but they had all supported his decision. Especially her. He suspected she liked that better than him continuing to risk his life. She'd even been fine with the idea of moving to Shetland so he could work at the small clinic in Muckle Roe. He could see that she liked it there too. It was calm and peaceful and the kids were happy and safe there. It had been good. Boring, perhaps, but Harry had cherished the boring parts. At least, most of them. In some ways boring was good for him as well. After some time together, Ginny had insisted that he talk to someone about the nightmares he kept having and about how he'd sometimes jump at weird sounds or have his temper flare at nothings. Up here there was very little to trigger any of that.

No, the point where it had started to change for real was the day Draco Malfoy showed up. Harry had known, of course, that he had applied for an apprenticeship at the clinic as part of his Healer training, though Harry wasn't sure why. It had made him do a thorough background check on Malfoy. Ron had helped; his being an Auror was often helpful and now was one of those times. It had, by then, been seven years since the war and much had changed. Turned out Malfoy had been doing all he could to escape his past, work away from the bad image his family had. Perhaps that was why he'd become a Healer, Harry had speculated. And that might also be why he'd chosen to move up here with his pregnant wife. A place where Harry Potter wasn't much of a novelty wouldn't be hostile to Draco Malfoy either. Not that Malfoy would have known that he was moving to a place where Harry was – he'd taken to using his mother's maiden name to be less traceable.

The look on Malfoy's face when he saw Harry proved that his being there was a surprise and it was quite amusing too. Harry had been hard pressed not to laugh and had teased him about it a bit and everyone else had laughed. He liked to think it had eased Malfoy's arrival a bit. It wasn't easy, moving here and being the 'foreigner'. Harry knew that very well and after that check he'd resolved to at least give Malfoy a chance.

Perhaps that wasn't when it had changed either. After all, the first year after Malfoy had arrived had been very quiet. Malfoy's wife gave birth to his son and Ginny had their second - also a son - around the same time. Apart from that, it was the usual stuff. He grew to at least respect Malfoy's skills as a Healer – in some ways he was beyond his level in skill, even Harry could see that. The fact that so few people were up here and that they saw each other every day also meant he'd resigned to calling Malfoy by his given name, and vice versa, even though it had felt very awkward at first. All in all, it had been fine. Right up until the curse.

Harry remembered taking the first case to Draco. They'd discussed the strange effect it had and what might be causing it. It was likely why Draco had known what was going on the day Harry was hit. Harry admitted he was grateful, because having your otherwise calm and friendly co-workers suddenly point their wands at you, threatening to hex you into the next life, is not a pleasant experience...

_Eight years after the fall of Voldemort, sometime in early August_

Harry arrived in the clinic after a call. He stepped through the Floo and within seconds his colleagues were staring wildly at him, then jumped to their feet and pointed wands at him. It might be eight years since the fall of Voldemort and this might be Shetland, but Harry could feel his pulse rise to a deafening roar in his ears and all of his instincts told him to either hex them senseless or get the hell out. Now.

"Dinna come closer!" Brian said, glaring at him through eyelids closed to slits.

"Wha-" Harry began, feeling his fear and anger rise, but Gwen had cut him off.

"GET BACK," she yelled.

Harry hadn't moved. At all. So how he was supposed to 'get back' he wasn't sure. This was exactly the kind of thing he should have expected. They had tricked him. For years.

Draco popped his head in and in his growing panic, Harry was sure that the guy was going to finally hex him like he'd wanted to so many times in school. Only, Draco didn't. He looked every bit as confused as Harry felt. The only difference was, he didn't stay confused. He took over.

"He's dangerous!" Brian said, his hands almost shaking, answering the question on Draco's face. "Keep yer wand on him! He'll kill ye for sure!"

"What did he do?" Draco asked, though he slowly did point his wand at Harry, who in turn prepared himself to fight for his life.

"What d'ye mean? We're not about to let him do anything!" Pepper added and took a step closer to Harry, her wand at the ready.

"Why are you holding your wands on him, then?" Draco asked, very sensibly in Harry's opinion. That was when he first thought there might be a way out of this.

The other three almost forgot to glare at Harry and turned incredulous stares at Draco.

"What's the matter wi' ye?" Gwen asked, almost as if Draco had dropped from the moon and not asked a perfectly reasonable question.

"Well, if he didn't do anything," Draco said, his slow speech almost drawling the way it had at school, "then why hold him at wand-point? It's Harry. You know him..."

"Shows how vile he is, tricking us like that," Pepper said, her eyes so full of malice that it almost hurt.

"Look," Draco said, "if I take his wand and you lot put yours down-"

The stares he got for that one cut him off and he sighed. Harry, still tense with fear, appreciated for a second just how hard this situation had to be for the only one not involved.

"I'll put him in a Body-Bind," Draco said and Harry had shouted 'no' before he'd even though about it. He couldn't be held down like that. Tied up. He'd panic.

"Harry, it's the only way they're going to stop!" Draco said and despite everything, Harry did realise that he was right. He lowered his wand.

"Look, he's going to do it. So lower yours too," Draco said.

No one did and Harry was fighting himself so hard that he could all but see Voldemort in front of him instead of Gwen.

"Sit down, Harry." It was Draco again and it might be the contrasting and much needed calm in his voice that made Harry do as he said.

Draco cast the Body-Bind and Harry screamed. Only, no one heard as he couldn't move. The scream was inside his head and it stayed there, deafening him to all that happened after that. Perhaps he'd blacked out, he didn't know. All he remembered was fear.

Next thing he knew Aurors had arrived and he'd been taken into custody. Protective, they claimed, but as they too seemed to think him capable of anything Harry wasn't sure who was being protected...

At least they had released him from the bind once he was in a cell and he could think again. What the fuck had happened? Why him? Death Eaters. It had to be. But why now and how? Was his family safe? And why the fuck was Draco Malfoy the only bloody person around who didn't treat him like a serial killer?

He was there for a couple of days. No one so much as looked in on him and he wasn't sure if he was grateful or not. It would have been painful to see more people shy away from him like that. His meals were delivered through a slot in the door, something that, more than anything else, took Harry straight back to the Dursley's house and summers spent in a small room. He didn't eat but curled up on his cot instead.

Once, the slot opened and no food came. Instead there was a rolled up scroll and Harry hurried to open it, hoping it was explanations or news or something. Only it wasn't. It was from Ginny. At least she let him know that the kids were doing good and that they missed him. She also let him know that she'd talked to someone who'd met him during the curse effect and had learned certain things she had never thought she would hear. This person had told her they'd always known Harry was no good and that Ginny could do a lot better than a husband like that. And finally that it was best if Harry didn't come home, not even if they lifted that curse. At least not until she had thought things through.

"Fuck!" Harry tore the scroll up in as tiny pieces as he could manage. It was Pepper who'd talked to Ginny, he knew it. She was the only one who could tell that. He cursed himself, Pepper, and a few more people now he was at it and kicked the walls, the cot, the chair (so hard it shattered) and threw himself on the cot again. He didn't think life could get any worse and at the moment it didn't matter if everyone else treated him like a pariah. He deserved it.

Around two meals later, during which time Harry didn't move, two Aurors opened the door to his cell, hauled him to his feet and Apparated with him. In two short hops they were back in Shetland. There was a tiny hut and Draco Malfoy and that was all. The Aurors signed him over to Draco and left and Harry stood there and wondered if this was an improvement and decided that at least it was open air and the one person he'd met who didn't act like he was the Dark Lord himself.

"Erm... where the hell are we?" he asked after a few moments of staring around and gathering his thoughts. It was such a stark contrast to the cell and to his previous train of thought that he couldn't fully comprehend it.

Draco frowned. "Didn't anyone tell you?"

"No one has really talked to me since I came through the Floo at the clinic," Harry said grimly. "Other than 'don't move or I'll kill you' and things to that effect. I suppose them thinking I'm about to murder them kills the conversation." He sounded bitter, even to himself.

"Ah." Draco sounded surprisingly level in Harry's ears. Impressive, really. "We're at the Muckle Roe quarantine cottage near Burki Taing. We're here until I solve this or St. Mungo's does."

"Quarantine? Is it contagious?" Harry already worried, his kids in his thoughts again, despite the fact that he hadn't seen them since before this happened.

Draco looked distinctly more displeased. "No. Didn't anyone ask if you'd prefer to be treated here or at Mungo's? That's where the other victims are."

Harry shook his head, then shrugged. "Just dragged me here," he said. "Guess this is a better alternative anyway. I wouldn't want to be stuck in London just now."

"All right," Draco said, looking slightly bored or distracted, much to Harry's surprise. "Let's get inside and I'll fill you in."

"If it's the same to you I'd rather stay outside for a bit," Harry said. The wind and the air felt so good after the days of imprisonment.

"Suit yourself," Draco said with a shrug and leaned against the wall of the cottage.

Harry looked at him. "Weren't you going to fill me in?" he asked after a few minutes. "I didn't object to the information, you know." His tone was perhaps more terse than called for, but no one in their right mind could blame him.

Perhaps except for Draco who rolled his eyes. But he did answer. "Okay, here is what we know now: The effect is caused by a potion gone wrong. What we don't know is exactly what potion, but one victim – there are three of you now – remembers finding some old potion somewhere and disposing of it. Presumably not well enough. As for how you and the other one got into contact with it, we don't know yet – and the first priority is to find a cure anyway. We think it was a potion that was supposed to make the drinker more impressive and intimidating and that, basically, it's working far too well."

"But who would make that kind of thing?" Harry asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine, but I think we can imagine..." His look was telling and Harry nodded. It had to be left from the time of the war.

"Yeah," he agreed. "Go on."

"Why, thank you." Draco's smirk was reminiscent of school and strangely infectious in this situation. Familiar in a way that made it almost comforting. How odd.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "that's what's happening. And since we all know the best way to counter a potion is a potion, that's where we are starting."

Harry nodded, knowing the truth of that statement. "Any news on where to start? More specifically?"

Draco nodded too. "Yes. A few. But so far no luck at St. Mungo's so I'm attempting to make some subtle differences to the potions we're trying. And if that doesn't work..." His voice trailed off and Harry thought he detected doubt or discomfort there and wasn't sure either could be true.

"What do we do if it doesn't work?" he asked, a bit afraid that Draco would say something like 'then you have to live with it'.

"There are spells to try after," Draco answered, with that same air that Harry couldn't understand and that kept him from asking further questions right now. It reminded him a bit of when Ginny needed time to think about something before he could get more detail out of her. Don't think about her now, he told himself. That sting you are feeling? That's why. You need to be focused and not crack up.

So Harry didn't protest either when Draco told him they'd start the day after and to use the rest of the evening to just take it easy. Draco read all evening, but to Harry, it felt more like Draco was avoiding him than actually reading up on the remedies they were going to try.

Still, that didn't explain why Draco was barely making sense when Harry bumped into him that night outside the shower.

Inwardly, Harry cursed that he wasn't wearing his glasses – that way he could at least have found out what Draco looked like naked. It was a matter of personal curiosity, at the very least. Draco wasn't exactly hard on the eyes, after all. Besides, he'd always wanted to know if he was equally blond everywhere...

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
The following morning he made sure there was enough coffee to get both of them started – a habit from the clinic – and helped Draco prepare ingredients for the potions they were attempting.

"There's one thing I forgot to ask you," Harry said while cutting some root or other. "Last night."

"Yes?" Draco glanced up, but only for a second, still very intent on what he was doing.

"Why are you not certain I'm about to murder you?"

"Ah. Yes." Draco put down the knife and looked at Harry. "It's complicated and ties in to what this potion has done. You see, your Extrarius aura has a false tinge of malice."

"My what has a what now...?" Harry stared at him.

"Your Extrarius aura. The... outward force of your magic, the part of you that is used for magic to do with manipulating minds – like Legilimency. Yours has been tinged with malice by this potion and this means that witches and wizards who come near you become convinced you are out to harm them. This is also why I am immune. As an Occlumens, I easily block these things. I don't even necessarily have to think about it. Which was what happened back at the clinic."

Harry chewed on that for a bit. "Tinged with malice," he said. "Sounds like something out of a bad film." He looked at Draco again. "Tell me about what we are doing. I'd like more detail."

"Don't you know that the Healer who tries to heal himself has a fool for a patient?" Draco said.

"I do. But I'm a Mediwizard, not a Healer, so I guess I'm only half a fool," Harry retorted, drawing a grin from his companion.

"All right then." Draco gestured to the table. "These are a variety of antidotes and also potions to try and modify your aura. St. Mungo's haven't had much luck yet, but it's worth a try. They are also trying Trust-spells..."

Again Draco's voice trailed off like it had the night before.

"What kind of spell is that?" Harry asked, more casually than he felt.

"A variety of spell that demands a high level of trust between caster and recipient," Draco explained. "It's based on the same theory as Unbreakable Vows but with far less consequence. It is meant for confessions and for revealing secrets and such and will let the caster know if the recipient is telling the truth. In choosing to tell the caster something revealing, the recipient shows himself to be trustworthy and this should in theory wear down that aura of malice you've acquired."

It sounded a bit far-fetched to Harry, perhaps because he'd never encountered that kind of spell before and he found himself wishing Hermione had been there to help him. But for all their history, he trusted Draco's professional judgement a lot and he would go with what he suggested.

"Why are we here, anyway?" Harry asked as they went back to work.

"Well, we all know why you are here," Draco commented dryly.

Harry decided not to rise to that one. "Yes, but why did you agree to it though? Don't you have exams next month?"

Draco gave the blue potion one final counter-clockwise stir, staring so firmly at the cauldron that Harry was sure something was wrong.

"Did she force you to?" Harry frowned as he started to slice a dried mandrake. "She's not allowed to do that. Trainee or not, you have a right to refuse to take on an extra assignment like this. Especially when you have exams coming up."

"She didn't... really force me to." Draco cleared his throat and poured the potion into a flask. "I'm here because... because I am who I am."

"What?"

"Because I told Helga that I didn't want to, for reasons of my own, and she said she hadn't yet had a chance to regret taking me on as a Trainee before now..."

Harry's eyebrows drew together and he paused mid-slice. He had a slightly ugly feeling about this. "But now she did? Why?"

"Because of who I am. Basically, I need to prove myself. Prove that I can put a patient's needs above my own. Despite my... history."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "Oh." His eyebrows drew together. "Wait, after a year at the clinic, all of a sudden this comes up?"

"You'd be surprised about when these things come up. Slice the mandrake thinner," he said, and started chopping dried senna leaf.

"So... she wants you to prove yourself," Harry said, keeping his voice neutral. "And you're trying to do that."

"Which is stupid."

"Yeah, it is. Your record is clear. You're a good Healer, she should know that."

Draco looked almost happy for a second, then his expression changed. "It's not Helga who's stupid," he said brusquely, adding Harry's sliced mandrake to one of the cauldrons and his chopped senna leaf to another. "I'm stupid for letting her get to me and ending up here."

"And why is that stupid?" Harry had a feeling he knew, since trying to outrun your name was a lifetime sport for him.

"Because I can't prove myself. I can't - there is nothing I can do in this lifetime that'll mean I'm done proving myself. The Dark Mark will never come off, and no matter what I do, there will always be doubt. Until the day I die, somebody will want me to prove myself."

Harry was silent as they started to pour the remaining potions into their flasks, surprised that Draco didn't sound more bitter than he did. "So why are you really here, then?" he finally asked.

"She also pointed out that I could advance my career by solving this."

Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically.

"No, I didn't think so either. If that was important to me, I wouldn't be in Muckle Roe, would I?"

"No, you wouldn't." Harry started to write labels for their potions as Draco cast cleaning spells on the cauldrons. "So... why are you here?" he repeated.

"I don't know," Draco shrugged irately. "Maybe to prove myself to me."

"And why didn't you want to be here?"

"That's private," he snapped, and Harry's eyebrows went up slightly. A very sharp reaction to an innocent question. Interesting.

"In any case, I shouldn't waste any confessions, just in case the potions don't work, right?" Draco added.

"Right." Harry cleared his throat. Those words had the air of a quickly thought-up excuse, but he was willing to let it go for the sake of peace. For now.

"All right," he said, once they'd finished the last batch. "So. I'm supposed to try all of these..?" He pulled a face at the counter full of neatly labelled flasks. "How will we know if they work?"

"I'm reading up on how to make your Extrarius aura visible." Draco ran his hand through his hair, a slightly stressed or frustrated gesture. "I wasn't supposed to have to learn that until near the end of my training, so it may take a while to get it right."

"I'll make lunch, then," Harry said and got up. It would put off trying the potions for a little bit, especially since he wasn't looking forward to that.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
"I take it bright pulsing purple is bad," Harry said the next day, feeling a little cross-eyed as he tried to peer at his own aura. Apparently you can't see your own aura if you look directly at it, so he was trying hard to catch something out of the corner of his eye. At least Draco could see it clearly.

"It's not good," Draco agreed. "St. Mungo's said it's normally supposed to be 'glowing softly, somewhere between blue to green.'"

"Not a lot of green here," Harry commented. "Funny, I really don't feel like I'm being hostile."

"You're not," Draco said automatically, concentrating on the aura. "It's just the potion, you know that."

"I really thought that last orange potion yesterday would help," Harry said, a small smile spreading across his face. "It certainly made me feel different."

"Before or after you threw it up?"

"Right after I drank it. I thought maybe it had reversed the effect, because I really thought you were trying to kill me."

"Ha ha." Draco wasn't as un-amused by the joke as he obviously pretended to be, and Harry had a feeling he rather enjoyed the dry humour. It was a relief that the jokes were okay with Draco, they took the edge off the whole project and Harry bloody well needed that!

"So I take it we're starting confession time?" Harry said as Draco put his wand down and checked his notes. It was more of a statement than a real question.

"Let me set up the Trust-Spell first," he said distractedly, reading over the scroll.

"I bet you are all aquiver now. Can't wait to hear of my secret love for pink plait underwear?"

Draco glared at him and Harry chuckled. "Okay, okay, I'll stop joking now."

"No, it's okay." Draco sighed. "It might make it easier if we can laugh about it..." He pushed the scroll across to Harry. "Read this carefully, I want you to know what will be happening."

Harry read the scroll twice, making sure he had every bit of the spell down. As he read, his stomach started to clench and he was feeling slightly queasy. In a few minutes he'd be telling his innermost secrets to Draco fucking Malfoy... No matter how nice the guy had been lately, he didn't like that thought too much.

"Look, let's just get on with it, okay?" Draco said and Harry nodded his agreement. Better not wait too long – a bit like taking off a plaster. He was inwardly amused at the analogy; scary how much one becomes one's work...

"Okay." Draco raised his wand and did a strange sort of wiggling circle with it that Harry had never seen before. "Confidotuom," he said and looked into Harry's eyes. Harry looked back, afraid to affect the spell if he broke contact.

"I am sorry for some of the trouble I got you into at school," Harry said with much effort. "And for the times I hurt you."

To his surprise and chagrin, Draco laughed.

"That's your confession, Harry?" Draco sounded amused and sceptical and Harry felt his temper rise.

"Yes. Do you have a problem with me trying to apologise because that's the weirdest fucking reaction I've ever heard of!"

"Not at all," Draco said smugly. "I suppose I guessed you'd be soft like that. Why did you choose that for a first try?"

"Seemed a good place to start," Harry said with a shrug, regaining his cool. "Not too personal. I wanted to see how that worked to gauge how powerful these things need to be."

Draco nodded. "Makes sense, I guess." He flicked his wand and ended the spell. "Let's look at your aura now."

Harry sat perfectly still, afraid to move lest he mess with the spell. It was a silly reaction and he knew it, but he was pretty damned nervous about this. He would prefer this to have taken care of most of the problem so he wouldn't have to keep going too long. There were quite a few things he never wanted Draco to know. His dark thoughts were cut off by Draco swearing.

"I take it we had no luck?" Harry said with a sigh.

"Not much," Draco confirmed. "I can see the faintest of changes. More of a change in tone than anything else."

"Okay." Harry was distracted and looking gloomy at the thought of having a long line of more or less intimate and embarrassing stories to tell Draco. Because the conclusion to be made from this attempt was an easy one: the confessions needed to have more weight.

So when Draco told him they had two hours' break before trying again, Harry cleared out and went for a walk to give the man some peace. It also gave him time to ponder this a bit more. What Draco was doing for him, being isolated out here like this. Though inevitably that made him think of Ginny. Of how she was usually the one who'd go to great lengths for him and how he hadn't heard a word from her since that ill-fated owl he'd received in prison. He had fucked up, he knew that. But it still didn't seem fair that she would cut him off like this, especially not when he needed her the most.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
They kept trying various tales of Harry's that day and the next. From the embarrassing story of how Ripper had chased him up a tree to how his first kiss had felt, each time stopping to gauge if the kind of emotion triggered by the confession made a difference in how much it affected Harry's aura. The work was hampered a bit by the fact that the spell was a powerful one and shouldn't be cast by the same person more than a few times a day. Harry could feel that too: the spell drained him physically proportionately to how the confessions drained him emotionally.

By the third day they concluded that the type of emotion didn't have any significance and had no choice but to move on to more heavy stuff, hoping that the trigger would be how powerful an emotion or secret the confession revealed. Draco had hoped to discover a shortcut, but that had been a dead end. So Harry had to think of how to take this to the next level without exposing himself too much. It wasn't easy, but when Draco told him they were ready for the next attempt, Harry thought he had an idea.

"Confidotuom," Draco said and Harry sighed, though he didn't give in to the urge to break eye contact.

"I wanted to play Quidditch after the war," he said quietly. "After everything was done, I mean. But I'd also wanted to be an Auror, since before leaving Hogwarts. Only, after the war, it didn't sound all that attractive. I'd pretty much already been an Auror forever; I wanted to do something with my magic other than use it to track and fight Dark wizards. Besides, I figured after Voldemort, hunting down old men smuggling flying carpets into the country probably wouldn't hold much appeal."

"Probably not," Draco agreed in an amiable sort of tone, just short of bored and Harry figured that as confessions go, this one really wasn't much of a step up from the things he'd been telling yesterday and the day before.

"And I was... tired," Harry added. "Tired and..." he trailed off, observing the swirls of brown and white in his cup, his eyes distant as he seemed to try to find the right words. "And scared."

"Scared?" Draco repeated after a long pause, finally sounding like he was surprised, like this might matter.

"Yeah, scared."

"After everything you went through? You were scared of being an Auror?"

"I survived a lot of horrible stuff. I fought incredibly powerful people and won, time after time. And every time I looked back and saw how narrowly I'd escaped, I knew it was mostly luck."

"That's rubbish."

Harry shrugged. "Not to me, no," he said. "I had help. I was guided. In fact I was manipulated a lot too, used in Dumbledore's plans. So I didn't feel like I could actually, really take on anything big on my own."

Draco gave him a strange look and shook his head. "Who'd have thought that you, of all people, were a bundle of insecurities. Though after hearing a bit about your family I suppose I can see why that might be. But you are not the only one who gave up his dreams for fear of failing."

"Really?" Harry was curious. He hadn't for a second believed that Draco's lifelong dream had been to become a Healer, but he wondered what the man's dream had been.

"I wanted to play professional Quidditch too," he said, with a small smile.

"Really?"

"Yeah. My father had a friend, Seeker for Puddlemere, Gary Astons-"

"Not the one who was killed by Aurors on the Hogsmeade raid right after the battle at Hogwarts, was it?"

"Yeah, that one. Anyway, he'd told me that I had a lot of talent and potential – maybe not enough for first string on a really good team right away, but definitely good enough for an alternate. I held on to that, repeated it to myself during a lot of the time when things were less than good. And I practised whenever I could do it safely. It was something to aspire to, you know? Trying out was going to be one of the first things I did, once I could."

"So what happened?"

Draco shrugged. "I lost my nerve."

"In the try-outs?"

"Never even got there. I'd circled the dates on my calendar; there were five try-outs scheduled right after the trials, when I was finally let go."

"Yeah?" Harry's eyebrows were almost at his hairline.

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you go, then?" Harry pressed.

Draco shook his head. "I pictured being in front of all those people, doing my best and failing, or doing my best and getting in but having people say I'd got in on my name or my fame. Or doing my best and succeeding, but still not being picked for security reasons or for political reasons... and I just never went."

Harry was gazing at him seriously and with a lot of sympathy. He had a feeling that was why Draco looked away shortly after; he wasn't the kind of man who wanted to be pitied.

"So you became a Healer and I became a Mediwizard," Harry mused. "Strange coincidence."

"Yes." Draco looked at Harry again. "Neither of us have a bad job, but it's not exactly what we'd planned or dreamed, is it?"

"No..." Harry agreed and sighed softly. The job wasn't his only dream shattered, it would seem, and definitely the one he lamented the least.

"Okay," Draco said, with the brusque air of changing the subject back to reality. "This doesn't count as all that earth-shattering."

Harry knew an evasive manoeuvre when he saw one and just nodded. "Probably not," he said and watched as Draco picked up his wand and did the necessary spells.

"There's definitely a marked reduction in the aura," Draco said and had Harry's full attention. "More so than I'd expected. This wasn't such a big confession..."

He started to write down his observations and Harry stared at him with a growing sense of excitement in his stomach. What if they'd discovered something that would work? But Draco kept scribbling and Harry, unable to stand the tension, got up and went to get them both tea.

For a while longer, Draco wrote and sipped the tea Harry had brought him, seemingly without noticing that he was doing that, and Harry resorted to cleaning up because he couldn't just sit there and wait

He didn't know how long it had been – it felt like hours but might have been as little as twenty minutes – when Draco called for him.

"I've figured out the reason this one worked so much better than expected," he said, looking a lot more annoyed than Harry would have expected from someone with such good news. "It was because I told you something back while the spell was still on. I am about ninety percent sure."

It took Harry a few seconds to completely understand the consequences of this.

"So..." He wasn't sure if this might be too much to ask of the other man. "Would you be willing to do that? Reciprocate, I mean?"

There was a long silence and Harry noticed that Draco was very careful not to look at him at all and his face was kept expressionless. "I think so," he said, clearly choosing his words carefully. "As a Healer I am sworn to put the well-being of my patients above my own and this... is an excellent example of that."

Harry nodded, quite certain that there had to be more than that behind Draco's acceptance, but he knew better than to say that.

"For what it's worth," he said, "I wouldn't expect you to and I'd never tell anyone if you didn't want to. That said, I'm also very grateful you'll do it."

Draco didn't answer but mumbled something about having to finish his notes and write St. Mungo's and disappeared into his bedroom. Harry wondered how stupid Draco thought he was if he thought Harry didn't know that writing was the last thing the man would be doing in that bedroom... But he respected his privacy and went for another walk.

This time his thoughts didn't stray to Ginny at all. No. He was thinking about Draco. About how fucking weird it was that he felt he'd found some sort of kindred spirit there. In Draco Malfoy. He had definitely been in Shetland for too long if that was the case. It had to be the solitude, the isolation, the long periods between seeing any of his friends.

Yet, he knew that wasn't it and the thought was puzzling to him in a way that was making him slightly anxious and also feeling a bit dizzy, neither of which he knew what to make of. And there was the disturbing realisation that Draco would run away from him at intervals. He wasn't sure if it was attraction or repulsion, but whatever it was, Draco didn't want to admit to it. And personally, Harry was beginning to lean towards attraction. What he should do with that though was something he wasn't sure about at all!

That evening Harry had dreams so vivid that he couldn't remember anything like it, except for when he'd seen into Voldemort's head during his late teen years. He dreamt of Ginny leaving him, shouting that he would kill her, and he felt an incredible fear that he'd never see his children again. He woke in a cold sweat, shaking all over and his head hurt, like his brain was pounding against the inside of his skull. He wanted to cry, but couldn't and in an attempt to feel better, he got out of bed and went to the shower.

The warm water relaxed him, washing away the sweat and at least the worst of the fear with it. Ginny might leave him, but she would not be able to keep the kids from him, the law wouldn't let her and Harry damned well wouldn't either. In the end, that was the most important part.

As the tension gradually left him, Harry felt other parts of him wake up. It might be a bit bizarre, after what he'd just been thinking of, but no matter how things were between them, Ginny had always been attractive to him and it had been, well, very long since they'd last had a chance to... be together...and fuck, he missed it..!

He leaned back against the wall of the shower, surprisingly cool against his water-heated skin, and closed his eyes, his hand curling around his hard erection. Yes... that was what he needed. Best way to relax. Images flashed in front of his mind. First of Ginny, but then of others, too, and he let them, not caring too much where his mind took him as long as it felt good.

It shouldn't have surprised him that the images started to become Draco as he went along, but when the first fantasy of a blond, well-shaped and very naked Draco showed up in his mind he gasped and stopped. He couldn't have fantasies about Draco. Not in the middle of this mess, it would complicate matters, make it worse. And it would especially make his relations with Ginny a hell of a lot worse and it wasn't like they were good right now.

Frustrated, Harry went back to bed, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts and trying to rationalise what the hell had just happened. Okay, perhaps it wasn't surprising that he'd fantasize about Draco when the man was all he'd seen for days now and he was helping him and all. Healer's gratitude wasn't unheard of, after all. And it had been pretty damned horrible before he got here and Draco had been friendly and really great about it all, despite not wanting to be here. That had to be what it was.

Besides, even if the attraction made sense, doing anything with Draco didn't. Just the fact that he didn't want to be here with Harry was proof it was stupid. Also, they worked together, for crying out loud! They were both married men! Even if his mad idea that Draco might be attracted to him was right, he couldn't get in the middle of another man's marriage. He just couldn't. He'd fucked up enough on that kind of thing to last him a lifetime.

Reasoning with himself like this made Harry feel better. Not that it made him able to fall asleep and as much as he'd made sense of it, he wasn't sure he was ready to give in to a fantasy about Draco in order to be able to fall asleep. That was likely why he didn't sleep all that well that night.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
The lack of sleep and rather disturbing thoughts were also why Harry wasn't all that awake or attentive when Draco did the first spell of the day, which in turn was why he'd said the first thing off the top of his head: that he was bisexual.

At least it had surprised Draco enough that Harry had been amused at it and then Draco had revealed the not-so-surprising fact that he was bi as well. Which strengthened Harry's feeling of why his personal Healer sometimes acted really strange around him. Again, he chose not to let on and just accepted the return confession.

"We had another owl from St. Mungo's," Draco told Harry later that day. He seemed to have recovered okay after the last revelation and Harry had resolved to be more careful next time. "They say that with the improvement we are seeing it should take a couple of big ones to sort this out, Draco continued. "They have started to work with family members as familiarity will help with the load the confessions carry. However, this also means that they have people being hurt a lot."

Harry, seeing a way out for Draco, felt he had to say something.

"But... shouldn't you bring in Ginny to do this instead?" he said. "She's more than capable of the spell-work and you wouldn't have to..." He didn't know if he should say 'be stuck here with me' or 'tell me things' so he let the sentence trail off.

"No. It would mean starting over from scratch with building the trust. And besides, I have a feeling you and she do not need the problems this would create." He looked up at Harry, the unspoken question clear on his face.

"You are right." Harry sighed. "We don't." He left it at that, even though he sort of wanted to know exactly how much Draco had guessed or if Pepper had told him what she'd told Ginny as well.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
It was the last attempt of the day and Harry was starting to feel impatient, tired and a bit desperate that they didn't see more improvement in his aura. That was what made him finally risk telling Draco something he'd avoided even thinking of. Admittedly it helped that Draco had mostly been understanding and that Harry suspected the other wouldn't use any of this against him – both for personal reasons and because he took his vows as a Healer seriously.

"I had an affair," he said as soon as Draco cast the spell. "Ginny found out the other day and she is thinking of divorcing me."

To his credit, Draco didn't as much as blink. "Who told her?" he asked simply and Harry wasn't sure he should answer that one.

"It was because of the curse," he explained. "One of the people who saw me went straight to Ginny after I'd been taken away and told her about it."

"So it was someone at work, then." Draco's eyes narrowed and Harry thought that if that was directed at the person who'd told on him, then he was glad he hadn't mentioned Pepper's name. Either that, or Draco thought that Harry was lower than dirt for cheating on his wife. But somehow that seemed less likely.

"How did she tell you?" Draco continued. "You haven't had any mail while you were here."

"I got an owl while I was in that holding cell," Harry said, his tone nearly dead. "She didn't say who'd told her, but only one person knew about Robin..."

"Robin." Harry could see Draco tasting the name and he could see him wonder if that was a man or a woman. "So how long ago was this and why did you do it?"

If it hadn't been that Harry wanted the bloody curse gone he'd have refused to answer more questions – it was getting far too personal now. But he had started this talk and he should see it through.

"About a year and because I'm an idiot," he replied and got a short bark of a laugh from Draco in return.

"How did it happen then?"

"I went out for a drink, ran into Robin and... shit happened..." Harry shrugged. "And the reason I'm an idiot is that I let it happen twice more. So I can't even say it was just drunken foolishness. Not that that would be much better, but it might give me more of a chance of mending it."

"You are right, you are an idiot."

"Why thank you," Harry said sarcastically. "And what do you have to share, then?" After that comment he hoped Draco had done something equally stupid.

"I'm not close to having a divorce," Draco said, "I'm in the middle of one."

This time, Harry was the one to be surprised. "But..." His mind reeled. Draco wasn't exactly a 'married man' then, was he? And...

"I know," Draco said. "No one knows. I didn't want the word to come out because it's really none of anyone's business. Jessica and I just need to agree on where Scorpius stays when and then we're done."

"Why?" Harry managed.

"We want different things," Draco said. "I have settled into my job and... I like it up here. Jessica was supportive of the job, but only because she wants me to look good in the public eye and use that to restore the Pure-blood hierarchy to its former glory." Draco sounded as if the words themselves had a bad taste, something that surprised Harry as much as the divorce itself.

"So she's moving, then?"

Draco nodded. "Back to London or wherever. Where she can enjoy 'society'. I want to stay here and lead a life that isn't... tainted... by what my family was before." Draco sighed. "She plans to travel too, I think. Which I hope means I get to have my son a good deal more." The flash of emotion that crossed Draco's face then was deeper than anything Harry could recall seeing in him before. It was a mix of things he recognised well. Love and fear. The fear of losing.

"Yeah... I'm really scared too," Harry said. "I'm afraid Ginny will take the kids and..." He shook his head, unable to finish the sentence. That would be the most awful thing imaginable and the worst part was it was his own fault.

A gentle hand on his shoulder made Harry look up and Draco's face was closer than before as he leaned across the table to pat Harry's shoulder.

"That won't happen," he said softly. "The law says you have rights. Both of you. And I know you won't give up that easily either. You can't."

Harry nodded slowly and looked away. He wasn't ready to see that kind of sympathy in Draco's eyes. Which were rather pretty and that was something else he wasn't ready to see. Thankfully, Draco kept talking.

"I guess the Muggles may be right when they say men marry their mothers," he mused. Harry nodded his agreement. From what he knew, Ginny was a lot like Lily and just one look at Jessica would convince anyone how much like Narcissa she was.

"Hasn't exactly worked out for us, has it?" Harry sighed. This time Draco was the one to agree.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
That night Harry had trouble sleeping again and this time it was a good deal worse. He had far too many things to think about.

When they had checked his aura after that long talk about divorces the change had been noticeable, but it had been far less marked than it should have been according to Draco's calculations. Draco had then spent the rest of the evening writing notes and had sent and owl to St. Mungo's as well. By the time that owl returned, he'd reached some conclusions and the owl confirmed them. It wasn't working as it should and Harry had three choices, one of which he'd declined earlier – that they try switching so he did his confessions to Ginny instead.

That one wasn't guaranteed to work any better, but Harry knew it was guaranteed to make his relationship even worse and even if he was already headed for a divorce he'd do his very best to make sure it didn't become an ugly divorce. Ginny had been his friend before she'd been his wife and he'd always care about her. No matter what.

The other two weren't guaranteed to work either, of course, but they had more appeal anyway. And, in Harry's mind, better chances too. They could either stop using the spell and see if the effect of the potion faded away on its own, as potion-effects were known to do, or they could attempt one huge, earth-shattering thing and see if that worked. It wasn't an easy choice and Harry had retired early to think about it. And he hadn't reached any sort of conclusion at all.

Of course, trying to think about that wasn't easy when he was preoccupied with two other subjects as well. Two that were very closely entwined: What to do about his marriage and what to do about the fact that he was definitely and irrevocably attracted to Draco. After today, there was no doubt about it and there was no turning back either. It was there and he was disturbed to realise that the attraction was as much to Draco's personality as it was to his body. Though he had to admit that now he really regretted not having worn his glasses that first evening when he'd bumped into Draco naked. Not that his rather over-active imagination wasn't supplying a disturbing amount of detail the second he thought of Draco naked.

Harry shifted in his bed and, unbidden, his mind informed him that Draco was right next door, behind that wall, probably naked too because the night was warm and slightly humid. Not exactly a thought that promoted sleep. Or decision-making. It did promote his erection, though, and this time he didn't even try to stop thinking about Draco as he slowly stroked himself. Draco naked on his bed, doing what Harry was now. The way he would be writhing on the bed, messing up the sheets. Turn over. He had a perfect, round arse. Harry could almost touch it. He moaned and shifted his grip, stroking faster now, harder. It was Draco's hand on him now. Then his lips. Harry bit down hard on his own lip to keep from crying out as he came.

He was asleep as soon as he'd cleaned himself up.

\- - - - - - ~ ~ & ~ ~ - - - - - -

  
Strangely enough, most of the questions had sorted themselves in Harry's mind by the time he met Draco for breakfast. What it came down to, in the end, was to dare and hope that it worked out. All of his problems were tied into each other and the decision he faced wasn't all that complicated now that he'd figured out his priorities. For once, he was going to look after himself.

"Have you decided what to do?" Draco asked as they finished breakfast.

Harry nodded. "I want to try another confession," he said, sounding so determined that Draco didn't even ask if he was sure.

"You know what to say?" he asked instead and Harry nodded. "I'm not sure I can give you an appropriate return," Draco continued and Harry just accepted that. It was part of his gamble that Draco would want to reciprocate when he heard what Harry had to say.

"All right," Draco said with a 'here goes nothing'-attitude. "Confidotuom."

"I find you bloody fucking attractive," Harry said, looking into Draco's eyes and noticing how they widened in surprise and shock the second he understood what Harry had said. "I knew you were all right, but while we've been here I've come to like you. And that first night when we bumped into each other? I'm really sorry I wasn't wearing my glasses because I would love to know what you look like naked. Not to mention how you feel. The bottom line is: I'm very attracted to you."

Only after finishing did Harry look at anything besides Draco's eyes. Draco was gaping. And not speaking, which was probably not the worst reaction Harry could have gotten. Yet, he was starting to get nervous now and hoped Draco would get himself together soon and say something – because whatever he said would seal Harry's fate with regards to this gamble.

After some seconds that felt like hours, Draco finally spoke.

"I've been... attracted to you... for a while," he said. His voice was very soft and he wasn't looking at Harry. "I don't know when or how that happened but it's definitely gotten worse while we've been here."

Harry could tell that Draco wanted to say more, but also that he, despite what Harry had told him, wasn't sure it would be okay or that this was really happening. And to be honest, Harry couldn't blame him. He was shaking a little himself and the strange elation in his stomach made him want to laugh. At the same time the implications were huge enough to scare him and he was certain Draco had similar thoughts.

So to avoid too many thoughts getting in the way of the elated butterflies, Harry got up, rounded the table and kissed Draco.

It was like breaking a dam. Draco pressed against him, kissing back with an almost furious passion and a need that only fired Harry's own desire. Nothing but this mattered now and Harry wasn't surprised that they were soon half-naked and that Draco was lying back on the table, his notes scattered all over the place as Harry thrust into him and their moans mixed. His climax was as sudden as the kiss and he was only half aware that Draco was crying out moments later and of the wet feeling between them.

_A little more than eight years after the fall of Voldemort, sometime around Halloween_

Harry smiled at the memory. Yes, that had been when his life had changed drastically. With a curse caused by a potion. How ironic that Death Eaters would be indirectly responsible for making him feel really, truly happy like this.

Okay, nothing is ever perfect and there were still divorce proceedings and outraged locals to deal with. There was his enmity towards Pepper and the fact that Ginny still wouldn't speak to him but had various friends and relatives bring the kids back and forth between them. He hoped he could at least make this work in time for both of them to see James off to Hogwarts in three years, but that was likely the best he could hope for.

He looked at the sleeping figure next to him and smiled as he spooned up behind him. It was one of the nightmares from the war that had woken him, but it was all but gone now. He'd discovered that happy memories work against the Dementors inside of you as well as against the ones you can see.


End file.
